Darkness covered the skies,
While my body was restless with the tides.
I tried not to wait for the sunrise,
Because, it just reminded me of your eyes.

I remember holding you in my arms,
While surrendering to the stars,
Hoping to never fall apart.

The touch of your hand with mine,
The smell of Calvin Klein,
The taste of cherry wine,
Intoxicating me inside.

I didn't see this in cards,
Or the rolling dice in our hearts.

I imagined a future,
With the definition of forever.

But, now I see-
We were never meant to be.

When tomorrow comes,
Without the taste of ***,
We will find someone.

Now it is time for me to go,
And leave this pain for the runaways-
So, Goodbye, my Summer's Day!

The shooter: white-
my race too.
The shooter: male-
my gender too.
The shooter: 21-
my generation too.

The victims: Christians-
my people too.
The place: church-
my hallowed place too.
The church: Emanuel-
my church’s name too.

Dylann Roof: Lutheran-
my faith too.

His motive: racism-
my problem too.

Sometimes I wish it would never end,

Each passing day, a day closer.

Arriving soon at graduation, at the close,

Cherishing each moment,

Reflecting upon these 3 joyful years.

Everyone has to go sometime-

Sometime, for me, is now.

To new comforts I confidently go.

I’m told to let loose,
To let what loose?
“On the dance floor… on the dance floor,
let loose on the dance floor, Owen”

But… But…
To let loose is to lose;
to lose control.
Going “where the music leads”
is a new, scary place.

Everything must fit, must make sense;
Moving, swaying, ‘dancing,’ don’t.
What is there to gain
besides a common sense of…
awk
wardness?

“You’ll dance your way closer
to each other” (somehow).
But why grow closer in body?
Why not grow closer in mind?
Let us talk, dig beyond the surface.
“May I have this conversation?”

I’ll share my thoughts, my self,
and you’ll share yours.
So it will go, finding its own rhythm:
sometimes slow, methodical;
sometimes quick, passionate;
always common, enthralling.

Only then, with our intellects engaged,
engaged with each other’s,
can we truly dance:
the beautiful dance of the mind.

"Arlo," he insisted "I'm no artist."
As he squished the life out of his cigarette into the page, setting fire to his most recent piece of writing.

"I'm not an artist either." she mustered out while in tears. "I'm just pretending. I'm not even here. I'm not even real."

Both of them in tears now, he cups her chin with his hand and brings her eyes up to meet his. Tears streaming down their faces as they just occupy each others eyes.

The tears stop, and they fall down on the floor. They lie there a while in silence just enjoying the warmth of the nearby body. And for a moment, they're both truly happy. Really actually, honestly happy.

Until they both look to their side only to see vacancy. And to realize it was all a dream again. Both wake alone, with only a photo to fill the emptiness.

Work, work, work
Drink, drink, drunk
Write, write, write
Think, think, thunk

I think I'm finally wasted
enough to write something worth while
Hopefully when it's tasted,
it'll make your mouth smile
My words float through my teeth
as I let it all spill free
For those of you who have belief
in my pathetic words and me

This life keeps on trying to crush me until I'm dust
But I bite back harder and make the wound ****
Constantly testing my limits, touching the flames
Bubbling and burning my hands til I'm maimed

But **** it and *******, I'm done being nice
I gave you my all, and you gave it back twice
I'm so fed up with people, I'll go live in the trees
With my old pack of wolves who howl into the breeze

We'll maul you and eat you, but don't mind the pain
That's more than I often give, you're lucky to obtain
When you hear howling, and see bricks thrown at the moon
You'll know that you're next, and you're gonna die soon